Zhengzhou, 2025. I follow the chalk marks left on the street. The trail ends under a highway overpass, and a figure emerges from the shadows. “Do you have them?” she asks. I lower the bag of Iowa soybeans I’ve been lugging on my shoulder since I left the riverboat.
“Beautiful!”
Greg Egan
npub1qq…j5nhv
2025-04-09 12:06:03 UTC
Author Public Key
npub1qqm7nu2qf25xd3mw6y6cyp4v2wr7ktf43ymp5wqz4u8jvz76ymtsjj5nhvSeen on
wss://relay.mostr.pubPublished at
2025-04-09 12:06:03 UTCEvent JSON
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